The Sun Bear (Jig and Router) ep2

previous post: /dbrp/2011/07/sun-bear-my-roubo-workbench.html

My Fellow Americans and Terrestrials,

     Yes, last Tuesday I did not post a Tuesday post.  I have no excuse except fatigue.  I got home and just could not resist the warm soft nest in my room.  I owe you twice the words this Tuesday.  Until then I present to you the second stage of a long and over do project.  My Roubo inspired Workbench (The Sun Bear).

 -DBL

Jig and Router

     Originally I had intended to level out the area where the faulty fox joint mortises currently exist using only my able body and bench planes.  Well for sake of speed and a newer experience I decided to finally purchase my first Porter Cable 1 ½ hp router. 

     I had started to level the area using hand tools and left it at a good place for the router to do the rest of the dirty work, but still not be bog down by too much material removal.  Iron bark is dense and splintery and can wear down tools, but can also be machined pretty nicely.  Almost as nicely as its cousin the lemon scented eucalyptus. 

     One of the troubles I am dealing with in this project is the wind (pronounced whined) that exists in the top of the bench.  The pair of legs on the left side are pretty leveled.  The problem is at the other end.   A wind in a board is a twist in which each end of the board is at different axis. 

  

Full view of jig

New unused Porter Cable router

Battens

Anchored at the base of the legs

In retrospect this area should of had more battens

Hand worked unroutered

After the jig was built what was left to resolve was how to routering the middle of the area that was being removed.  Since the base of the router has a radius of 2 5/8 in.  I had to add a movable supporting sled in the middle of the jig.  As I worked closer to the center I readjusted the sled.

Support sled

When I had the majority of the area routed I decided to remove the jig and do the rest of the finesse work using hand tools.  Hopefully I have a good flat reference to finish flattening it with out too much grief.  





*A side note.  The grooves I have left on each side of the flatten area will help my squaring of the top.  To do this I will use my Jointer plane.  Some bench plane blade's do not extend to the edge of the body.  This groove will correct for the area that the edge of the jointer plane can not reach.  I will later fill this area with a contrasting wood or an exotic wood for a nice adhoc detail.

Scrub plane for the rest of the hogging out

After using the scrub plane

Rounded corners

Cleaned up area where the router missed

     That is the stage the Sun Bear remains.  Until the next time be safe and love what you do.  Oh speaking of.  When woodworking, using heavy equipment, power tools, sharp tools or when you just want to do something right listen to your body and mind and the spirit will follow.  When one of them is ready to quit, take a break.  Remember this is fun, not work.  I forget this often and this time I got a gentle reminder.  Just when I was about to quit, just when I felt myself rushing, I told myself "ok time to quit".  My mind did but my body followed through… sliced my hand with my recently 1000 grit sharpened paring chisel.  Luckily I was doing very light work, but the tool had a very keen edge. 

Mental/ Physical Fatigue + Sharp Tools = Two Stitches

            

*Here are some Tales from the NoteBook for your musing.

Tuesday night Post #47

As my mind expanded I still remembered to anchor In the time I organized the memories in that time I saw you briefly

Tuesday Night Post # 46

This is my working method.  For these drawings I have either started to destroy a resolution or started to solve a problem that is being created as I resolve.  A very much organic method, I fluctuate from solving to un-resolving the composition and symbolism.  Each pencil mark is left as an expression of a decision executed.  Sometimes erased to be re-experienced.  As I work I try to hold the belief that with each new stroke emerges a new drawing, forgetting any preconceptions.  There are times in which I remove myself from the drawing.  Allowing my mind to forget it and solve other ones in the set of problems I have developed.  These three are of a set I am working through.

As said before the method is of highs and lows.  Aesthetics and concepts, as I work through each, I struggle to unite the loose and emerging threads. 

Here are the puzzlers:

 

It’s hard to see each piece in some sort of disarray.   I can see some are unbalance in concept or design.   It’s also hard to remember certain stages I liked more that existed before the current version of the third one. 

 

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Tuesday Night Post # 45

Scattered Few,

"The closer I got to the reconstruction  the farther she got"

The closer I got to the reconstruction

the farther she got

In a way I found what I was after

Not the truth but the way the truth makes us respond

But then the truth is the way we respond

Myself to the ground I followed the line

Every lovely curve

To every abrupt change

The lesson was in the way

I had to shift to fall into the groove

On time nestled

another split apart

Just as I was a child knowing not when to let up

Things broke and several pieces went a missing

Union came not at the moment

Union is not a definition

Union was the memory there after

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Tuesday Night Post #44

For there to be union first there must be two or more things to unite; a cast of characters to portray the waves of reckless bodies accidentally becoming newly formed moments of ingenuity.  Or reflect the unraveling creative darkness that is consumption.  Imploding stars.  Particle accelerators. scientific advance...these unions are the ones that flicker brighter after they end.

Here are a few photos of heads I am working on. 

Tuesday Night Post # 43

 I’ve given it a bit of thought.  I have decided to tweak the Tuesday post. From now on I will see Tuesday as a checkpoint.  I will use Tuesday to present ongoing projects and document them.  I will also hope to present my concepts and intended goals.

The way I approach my work is very fluid and intuitive.  I find that sometimes the only way to comprehend something is to unravel with it.  It might be a bit unorthodox, but the result is in the action. 

If you wish to find meaning in my work I would say the definition is in its temporal whole.

There can be times when discussing meaning is unnecessary; times when even the artist can be wrong about their meaning. 

I periodically go back and write notes on my notes.  It helps to keep me focused and see the whole, backing away from the sometimes, sticky parts.  I have been putting it off, but I think its time to look back at the notebooks and sketch books.  Maybe present some pages on Tuesday. 

It’s been a busy two years with many obstacles and sidetracks, yet with some fruits to enjoy and many to nurture.

On this Tuesday I will post one of a few things I have in the works. 

Union

Union is a series of drawings depicting various stages of union.

What do I mean by union.  This I hope to illustrate. 

Here is one drawing in its temporary stage:

Tuesday Night Post #42

Strangers,

So I did not post last week.  I have no excuse but my own will not given.

I hope you enjoy this drawing from my sketchbook and some words for you to read.

-DBL

 *      *      *     *     *

Tales From the Sketchbook

In search for the structure that make my behaviors’ unfold

I search the pages of my own sketchbook

A book funded by the cult of the white box

A clean white page

A symbol of creation manifested into empty space

My rule as I have formatted

Create a destroying force that ends in a balance of form, concept, and beauty

Design is a result of the actions existed in between

Beauty is not a promise but it lives in the moment that is soon lost

A loose fitting composition

held together by its individual decisions

The action is driven by the need to fix

The fix is directed by the action beforehand

A promise is an experience

The result a map of every moment felt

 

Tuesday Night Post #21

Droplets,

My Post.  A projection of a future performance with a sketch to solidify the idea.

-DBL

 *     *    *     *    *

Cloud

A cloud of texture distinguished by its sound

Floats above him, The Caller, calling to the crowd

A crowd of thoughts distinguished by its collective action

Surrounds like a veil around inaction

His body a vessel to manifest the paradox of the virtual self

To behold and ride on this network of friends

As he voyages through his forms which are many

Reflecting the thought of One with rows of fingers aplenty

Not a seer of truth but a master of social engineering

Implanting the time signature a rhythm subtle but fulfilling 

One in all they perform the cycle

Destroying through creating

What took many years to make and many lives to construct

A collective thought that has always existed

Masked by this collective inaction just mentioned

A perpetual machine of absurdity

Beautiful in its efficiency and its inefficiency

For to construct what already exist to a second rate

That adds for more thirst than it satiates

Is what we now call the post-human condition

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The Sun Bear (My Roubo Workbench) ep1

Creators,

There is one woodworking piece of mine that I think I have not given enough exposure.  Do to the fact that it is the most functional piece I have made and that it is a piece that I constantly use, I am sad to say that ironically I have not given it enough acknowledgement. 

This piece has an interesting history and a history that I hope will last longer then I.  As of now it is a piece in need of repairs do to this history.  

This piece is my workbench.  An 18^th century Roubo inspired workbench.  Very non-traditional with its natural edges, two square corners, tripod style legs and single stretcher, it is at times unfriendly with its functionality and a quark to see and use.   

It has weathered my blood, sweat and tears.  At times has waited patently for me to use and has held me up for short naps late nights at school in the past.  It also has secrets here and there that it keeps for me.  I have lovely memories being covered in dust beside my bench with lust and trust, at school working waiting to find the perfect moment to confess my love to a girl of my dreams.  But that's another story.  

As said before do to its history and design it is in need of rework, which is why this bench will now exist and have its rebirth in cyberspace

The story started back when I was in college and a new student to wood exploration.  In need of wanting to work on a piece exclusively in hand tools and in want of building something that would last me a lifetime, and be functional though out that time, I decide to make a Roubo workbench.  

A Very Very Brief History of the Roubo

André Jacob Roubo was a French cabinetmaker and author.  The son and grandson of Master Cabinetmakers, he earned that designation in 1774 through the publication of his masterwork treatise on woodworking.  In his publication, in wish I can only presently wish to own,  he wrote of a jointers work bench, design and specifications.  This Roubo Workbench was a beefy one.  Here are some pictures of this 18^th century monster.

The top made of a thick solid slab and with very archaic (but fast and functional to the skilled) clamping devices it is a design not very reasonable in the modern world.  This appealed to my impractical nature.  Now only realizing an impactical nature that is much more practical then I was aware of  since there is a revival of the Roubo workbench among wood workers. 

Most modern work benches have tops that are laminated from very stable quarter sawn pieces.  This is because one can create a laminated top with greater ease and with more reliability than try to find a massive hardwood tree cut a stable piece of this tree and make a top.  This would be laborious, expensive and the wood will move (lose its squareness) in the years it would take for it to dry.

The Giants Felling

One very wet and windy winter in 2007,,,,I think,  an Iron Bark Eucalyptus fell which was located in the parking lot of my university, Cal State University, Long Beach.  Our department was in luck!  The luck was two fold, lucky the school was not in session, no cars or delicate little humans to smash for this tree was at least 4 stories high and at least 4-5 ft across  that’s just the trunk (the Iron Bark is a very dense and hard wood, when dry!).  

There were limbs everywhere.   We were also lucky that we owned a portable bandsaw mill.  That winter day we spent most of it milling the trunk and bigger limbs to sizable slabs so we could put them in our pick-up trucks and haul them back to the shop.  The interesting and dangerous character of the Iron bark is that it is a very high growing tree that is brittle due to the weaving of the fibers and density.  This particular tree seemed to have been rotting in the roots.  One strong wind and it gave.   

The scene was just awe provoking.  The tree literally fell broke and bleed.  As we moved the pieces around and stood some up water ran out in streams creating pools of clear blood.  It was a very curious and eye opening experience.  The, smell fantastic.  A fallen giant in our Urban Forrest. 

Fred Rose working the Mizer.

One trip with just a fraction of the tree in my truck made it bottom out.  I estimate one trip was one ton plus.  

My Roubo (the Sun Bear)

The pieces probably stayed in the stacks to dry for bout a half a year to a year.  At this time I decided to make my bench with not so thoroughly dried wood.  I knew in time the bench would move.  And will always do to temperature and moister change.    

I will not bore you with the design aspects of the bench they are personal and always in flux, but the making is something to be mentioned.  The only time I used woodworking machinery on this piece was in the milling of the top and the milling of the apron and legs. For the leg vise I did use a router jig to make the wooden screw.  I squared the top, chopped the tendons and mortises using traditional hand tools. It was and is a very laborious thing and I love it.  Oh yes and no glue was used.  Makes future repairs and mods easy.

So the present day:

As I said before the wood was still wet as I worked on the bench.  Now the top is warped partly do to its drying/movement and a bad fox joint (I will explain what that is later). 

The first step in the rebirth is the re-design of the third leg.  The fox joint is a tenon joint that wedges when hammered in, creating a once square tenon into a wedge preventing it from it ever coming apart.  The fox joint I created was ill in execution.

I had some thoughts about making a dovetail joint to attach the leg but first I must fill in the mortise that was previously there and create a square area to attach the leg.  I will square the area to the other two legs as much as possible since I am dealing with a piece of wood that is not square to begin with.  The essential squaring that will be need for it to function will come later.  In dealing with this piece everything is relative: squareness, levelness and all.  This does not mean it will not be perfect for its function.  There is too much emphasis on perfection in this world.  Perfection is relative. 

Here are some vids showing the old fox joint mortises, the leveled area to fill and the old tenons and third leg.  

My Roubo still needs hardware, dogs, and other various things that will make it a solid work bench and an odd thing to see. 

The next update will be the making of the plug and the design of the new joint.  Dovetail, twin tenon, or something absurdly inconvenient?

Until next time,

-DBL    

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Some Words on Creation By DBL

Error is essential in any breakthrough. All becomes more clear when all becomes muddled. Human existence at this moment, I have come to realize, is an endless plot to structure. With great error we try to conceptualize the simplest phenomenon. Humans, what is it with their categorizing? Without it they would go into disorder. Every time they would look at a chair the mind would reel at trying to conceptualize the object. I sometimes wonder and sometimes explore this idea of running into something like it is the first time I have ever seen it. How would a table function if you did not know what it was for? Stand on it? What else is a tree for but for climbing? How would the child in you use a thread chaser? Or a hammer? Ingenuity is not static. What is this instinctual need to follow a direct path? But insanity is just a thought away. Belief, religion, was the start of this grander scale of order, and science not immune to this either. We all seem to have this need to solve.
From the top I start. The start of my voyage was choppy and somewhat haphazard. But I soon realized that to understand, one must start at the beginning. Creation is random, the only reason it seems divine is because the formulas for the randomness are so accidentally perfect, mistakes only make it stronger. Do you follow?
To some, tumorous we are. Multiply... some parts unneeded. Quarks are essential. Science and religion are but fools in love, ignoring each other’s glances, too proud to approach one another. Sleepless nights are self-inflicted. Relations that exist in mere assumptions are relations that exist in masturbatory dreams. Safe but non-progressive is the thought that one idea is the best and most righteous, fact can only prove what we know. You are more religious then you think and rely on facts to prove your belief system. We seem to live our life to prove we are not human.
Consuming images are what I try to repel but then I am the consuming image-maker. How can one attract another when one has thoughts of discontent? But this is not my intention, I will find a new way of thought if and only if all that is done is just make me a wandering mess. Discontent with the norm is the first step to realizing what I do is just to satisfy and itch that we all have; to create a world that is our own. Rituals, alters, belief systems only exist to calm us, to tap into the origin of this motive is to find the formula; universal theory is not a mathematical equation but a broad and simple reason. Why do I carry things I do not need, what are the symbols that encompass your safety net? Why does one pick the human form as a base to always come back to? I come back to discontent. Of course I do, it is so calming and familiar. Imagine pods of emerging tumors, that is the way a friend of mine sees humans. I am more foolish, I see the beauty in her, and I sense it in her. Taste, I study I enjoy, there is not just one act in lovemaking there is not just one lovemaking. My downfall is the lovesick idealist in me, wrapped around my neck, itself it kills. Feels good to have a reason to wake up no matter how delusional. I will never be enlightened but what drives the stroke further in, what brings it back out? Simple stimuli? When recorded and dated we feel comfort. For future, for now we make, we mark, we date. If I had it my way I would squeeze in any place I fit. What does this reveal? Much I know not, free form reveals more to the consuming viewer not the comfortable dreamer. I fear we have not felt pain in a while, so lets all sit down and cry why should the stoic in you man the craft: hands hurt as much as hands work. We fool ourselves that what we make is only and truly, while she chuckles at our lack of ingenuity.
I enjoy just free thought more then structured thought but unfortunately, like you I am built to analyze and reason out the conflict that exist in the daily values that I come across. Well, one thing if for sure, the reason I am an artist is to stay sane if I was a mathematician I would never stop thinking, maybe I would be a good one but sanity is something I like to be close to. I do not mind wondering past the threshold of this concept and dwelling in a space that I find more comfortable then my mother’s womb but like the rest of you I like company and company unfortunately are not easy excepting of wandering without restraint.
Imagine yourself stimulated by everything you do. Does all touch you feel make you feel embarrassed to feel the way you do when you expose yourself to what is what you love and hate. Does all that touches those nerves that are only inwardly felt in the comfort zone you have built out of brick, inside that one place that not me not him not them not even her know, come from everything and anything that you come in contact with. Connected is all that comes from the tangent that vines from your fingers your nose your toes that organ that only one caresses firing pulses to the grandeur web of thought. Plugged into the matrix. Can you live that way? Feel every curve every soft change, harsh jar. Delusion can become realized. Carefully experienced. Carefully loved. Thin translucent skin to feel each fine tubercle, each neuron, that one squirm that tells you, you are on the right trail. Get lost a little to find a new pleasure. Give a space-time event a chance to change you.
So what is the DivineBrick, one more ad-hoc to satisfy the itch; always changing and growing? It is the need to understanding the origin of belief. This concept unclear and hard to ground therefore the DivineBrick Research Project was established. Can ones self delusion be more then just a way of dealing with what is real to them and what is not, when can it become a new way of thought or at least a brilliant way of thinking, expressing and understanding what is already there? When does delusion cross over to a vision? When does the half ass genius become the visionary? Sleepless nights all become to accustomed; my lover finds no pleasure in this closed eye event. Caresses me with common symptoms of short breaths. Grinding teeth. Repress you. Resist you. Sleep tries to pull me from this love I have for the open-eyed endless grind, pump, shake, I never settle. That warmth that is sleep alarms me. Things mustn't feel so good. Trouble comes when ones finds themselves friends with god. Equals can find more conflict. Questions become more interesting when one knows no answer will exist in their lifetime. I don’t stand on either end of science or religious. My Search is parallel.

Before created, forever edited, marked and dated,
-DBL
Summer 2009